Her body spasmed. Sticky, slimy goo oozed from her sore orifice. Sweat soaked her brow and her hair hung in bedraggled strands.
“Please, make it stop,” she begged, her words barely intelligible as she gasped for breath.
Her Dom looked at her, lying in bed.
“I’ll make you a Lemsip and a hot water bottle, sweetie. Get well soon.”
I have come down with a cold, and if I’ve got to suffer, I can at least try to put it into a BDSM context, can’t I?
(the “sore orifice” in the above is, of course, a nostril.)
Proper posts will resume once I have regained my natural Dominance.